Twice in a Lifetime
by MissNomer
Summary: When a doctor's visit reveals some startling news, will Reba crack under the pressure of bearing it alone?  R&R please!
1. An Illegitimate Concern

A/N: I own nothing, sadly. ;)

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"I'm..._what_?" Reba choked out. "A-are you sure?" She managed to ask before the doctor's words completely rendered her speechless.

"Was this a surprise, Ms. Hart?" Dr. Saunders asked patiently, smiling at the woman's clouded features.

The redhead could already feel the flush sweeping slowly across her face. "Well, _that's_ an understatement!" she exclaimed, her voice shaking slightly. "This was completely unex...," she trailed off as her knees began to buckle beneath her. "Or well,...maybe it wasn't a surprise...I don't know!", she mumbled absently, feeling around for the chair behind her. "Oh God...", she whispered, her eyes closed tightly in silence.

"Ms. Hart, would you like a glass of water?" The doctor asked, her brows furrowing as she watched her patient's face pale as the moments wore on.

"No...," she began quietly, rising to her feet. "I need to...get home to my family." Reba muttered as she grabbed her purse from the counter and headed for the door.

"But wait," Dr. Saunders started. "We still need to run some more tests, Ms. Hart." Met by silence, the doctor turned around just in time to see the door closing behind the woman.

As desperate as she was to find comfort in a familiar place, Reba found it difficult to find her car among all the similar looking models. After ten long, disorienting minutes, she was at last able to spot the glint of sunlight reflecting off her gold Volvo. Reaching for the handle, she swung the door open, finally able to let all walls down. Welcoming the warmth inside, she collapsed into the seat and buried her face in her hands, her eyes welling up. The tears spilled over her long lashes and trailed down her face, creating a seemingly neverending stream. She sat there, crying, for what seemed like hours until something occurred to her. Sitting up suddenly in her seat, Reba choked back a sob as a frightening thought entered her mind.

**She was Barbra Jean.**

A/N: So what do you guys think? Any input would be greatly appreciated!


	2. Between Friends & StoreClerks

Disclaimer: I still own nothing. :)

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Fifteen minutes into her drive home from the doctor's office, Reba passed by a local Walgreen's on the corner. Not giving herself any time to think, she made a quick U-turn and pulled into the store's parking lot. Looking into the rear-view mirror, she got an all-too-real glimpse of herself. She looked, to say the least, a mess. Her puffy eyes were swollen from crying and her tear-stained face had been thoroughly chapped by the wind. Her lips, too, had managed to be affected by all this.After digging around her in purse, she managed to find the un-opened Piña Colada flavored lip-balm Cheyenne had given her two Christmases ago. She quickly ran the tube over her lips, and took out a box of tissues from the glove compartment. After drying her face as effectively as possible and making sure she didn't look like a completely crazy person, Reba finally grabbed her purse and stepped out of the car.

Walking through the automatic doors, she picked up one of the baskets conveniently placed next to the tower of sales ads. Buying a pregnancy test was a necessity, but she'd be damned if that would be the only thing she'd be seen buying in there. Quickly, she scanned the tops of the aisles for the "Family Planning" section, and, immediately upon finding it, turned in the opposite direction. Placing items in her basket at random, Reba made her way slowly but surely to the right row. Moving at a fast pace down the aisle with all the candy, she dropped a big bag of Dove chocolates next to the ring of hair scrunchies, nail polish that she would never in a million years wear, pocket notebook, and ornamental mini lawn-dwarf. If the test turned out positive, she could already foresee needing to cling to that bag of chocolate like a life-vest. The lawn-dwarf she could always pawn off on Van.

Actually, coming to the aisle she'd been most dreading wasn't as bad as she'd previously thought. Feeling braver than she had all morning, Reba moved freely to the spot with all the kits. Wanting to find the most accurate one available, she spent over ten minutes looking over each brand. That's where she went wrong. She was turning over the very last one to read the label on the back when she heard it. That voice.

"Oh my goodness," the voice gushed. "I've been looking for one of these for_ever_!"

Reba froze, momentarily unable to breathe. Stuffing the pregnancy kit deep into the bottom of the basket, she made for the opposite side of the aisle.

"You can't live in Texas without having one, and the other three I've had --"

The last part of her chatter was lost in the "Oh!" of surprise as the two came face to face. Reba, with her basket of random items, and Barbra Jean, with her "Everything's Bigger In Texas" t-shirt held in mid-air.

"Reba!", the woman cooed. "I was just telling this store-clerk how the last three times I've had one of these, I've accidentally spilled hot wing sauce all over them. Isn't that a hoot?"

Reba frowned as she looked around for the clerk. "I don't...see anybody..."

Both women turned around just in time to see the stock boy sprinting down the opposite aisle, intent on hiding in the back room until the crazy woman left. Wishing instantly she could be that lucky, Reba started thinking up excuses that would get her away from Barbra Jean. _Far, far _away.

"So what are you in here for?" the blonde asked.

"Uhh..." Reba mumbled, reaching inside her pile of items. "Lawn dwarf?" she asked, shrugging.

This was going to be one _hell_ of a day..., she thought miserably.

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A/N: I know this didn't have much to it, but I had to use this as a segue-way to the real stuff. Hopefully you guys didn't find this too boring. ;) Please review to let me know how I'm doing! I promise the next chapter will have more!


	3. ChickenNoodle Soup for the Stubborn Soul

A/N: I am incredibly sorry it took me so long to update! Between work and school, I've had no time to do what I really love. (Not even enough time to watch the REBA re-runs on T.V. every night!)

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_"So what are you in here for?" the blonde asked._

_"Uhh..." Reba mumbled, reaching inside her pile of items. "Lawn dwarf?" she asked, shrugging._

_This was going to be one _hell_ of a day..., she thought miserably._

"Lawn dwarf, huh?" At this, Barbra Jean raised an eyebrow, but smiled anyway. "I've been wanting to add something to the yard for the longest time, but you know as long as there's football on T.V. and beer in the fridge, Brock'll never fix it up." She laughed with girlish acceptance. "What aisle are those on?"

"Oh...uh...I don't know," mumbled a distracted Reba. "Aisle 5, I think."

"Great! You stay here," Barbra Jean started, putting a hand on Reba's shoulder, as if to keep her in place. "And I'll go get myself one too -- We'll have matching lawns!", she added enthusiastically.

"_Fabulous_..." was all Reba could muster. Glancing toward the registers at the front, she groaned. There wasn't even a line! How easy it would be to just ... No, she couldn't do that to Barbra Jean ... Could she? Standing tip-toe she spotted the blonde weaving in and out of the aisles.

"Hey B.J." Reba said softly. "I think I'm just gonna go now ... is that okay?"

She paused, giving Barbra Jean the appropriate amount of time to answer, knowing full well she never would. "Okay, I'll take that as a 'yes'."

Smiling in spite of herself, she started toward the front of the store.

"Hey, Reba?" a voice called from somewhere in the back.

_Damn._

"I don't think they're here! What aisle did you say again?"

Edging ever closer to the register, Reba turned her head in reply. "Uhh ... try 6, Barbra Jean!"

"No, I already looked down that one!" she called back.

"Ma'am, are you ready to checkout?" the store clerk asked. Exasperated, she turned toward him, basket in hand.

"Reba?"

"Try aisle _11_, Barbra Jean!" she spat back angrily.

Both the store clerk and a group of elderly women by the magazine rack turned to look at her, questioningly. "Does she ... need any help?" the young employee asked.

"Not the kind you can give her, trust me. " Reba replied thickly. "Here." She placed her basket on top of the counter and pulled out a wad of bills from her pocket. "Keep the change, I'll be right back."

"Hold on Barbra Jean, I'm coming." Reba called out, deflated. "Where are you, anyway?" she asked, scanning the aisles before her.

The blonde emerged from behind a plushie stand, holding a big, stuffed bear. "Right here." she stated, wiggling the animal in front of her and making it dance.

"What happened to the lawn dwarf?" Reba asked, always amazed at how easily distracted her friend could be.

Barbra Jean made a face. "Eh, I don't know. I decided against it ... Kind of tacky, don't you think?" she asked, nose scrunched. "No offense to you, of course." she added quickly. "Hey! Do you wanna go to lunch?" she asked, her face brightening instantly at the thought.

"What, _now_?" Reba asked incredulously.

"Well, sure. Why not? It's a beautiful day out! And we could go check out that new outdoor café that just opened up downtown."

As Barbra Jean rambled on about shoe stores and all the other places they could visit on their afternoon out, Reba's mind wandered to what her family would say -- Especially Brock; and even more importantly, the person who stood before her now: A woman who had come into her life, turning it completely upside down; and now the woman she considered her closest friend, though she'd never admit to it.

Reba could feel the panic now, rising within her and causing her head to spin a little. She knew deep in her heart that what the doctor had surmised was true. She'd suspected it for a few weeks now, but had been too scared to face reality. The test was only a formality; a conclusion to something just starting out.

Leaning against the steel shelving to steady herself, she waited for Barbra Jean to stop talking. Not out of patience, but in attempt to calm her nerves before the blonde noticed something was wrong. She'd learned in the past how quickly Barbra Jean could latch onto fear, or an unknown surprise; both of which applied greatly now. Reba knew she had only the best intentions, but _damn _the girl make a mess of things!

Hearing a break in the chatter, Reba looked back up to Barbra Jean, expecting to be given the "puppy-dog eyes". What she was met with, however, was a look of complete seriousness etched across her friend's features.

"Reba, are you okay?" Barbra Jean asked, blue eyes sweeping over her face and taking in how ill she looked. In all the years she'd known her, there had been few times where Reba had really shown any sign of weakness, sick or not. Seeing this so blatantly before her was incredibly unnerving.

However, the redhead, in all her characteristic stubbornness, held fast to what even _she_ knew was a weak defense. "I'm fine, Barbra Jean." she stated as believably as possible, though her voice wavered at the lie.

"No you're not." Barbra Jean said simply.

Reba's eyes shot up to her, not having expected the woman to call her out like that.

"No, Reba." she continued matter-of-factly. "I don't think you're feeling well at all, and I intend to make sure you get home all right and fix you a big pot of chicken-noodle soup."

Before she could open her mouth to protest, Barbra Jean cut her off with a wave of her hand. "No." she stated firmly. "I'm doing this for you whether you like it or not, Reba. Now you stay here for a second while I go get that T-shirt." she said with a quick smile.

As Barbra Jean walked away, Reba tried to process what had just happened.

"Oh," she added casually. "If you also wanted to tell me about whatever it is you're hiding, that's cool too." Barbra Jean tossed over her shoulder.

"Just throwing that out there!" she said in a sing-song voice, momentarily disappearing from sight and leaving Reba's mind swimming.

All she could do was stand there, stunned. She'd somehow underestimated Barbra Jean. She'd learned to take her friend as she was, childishness and all, but this was a side of Barbra Jean she'd never seen before; one so serious.

Feeling a pang of guilt in the pit of her stomach, Reba slowly walked up to check-out to gather her things, her pride in the palm of Barbra Jean's hands. The same woman whose hands also currently held that God-awful T-shirt and who was making kissie faces at herself in the mirror.

Inwardly, she groaned at the thought of the ride home.

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Sorry again for the wait, guys! Luckily, there have been several great new stories to keep everyone's attention! I've read some really awesome ones, already! (I'll try to get better about reviewing, too. Some of you are incredibly talented!) And, as always, any comments are appreciated greatly. :)


	4. A Rival for Macy Gray

A/N: Sorry it's such a short chapter, guys:)

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Were it not for the serious circumstance, watching Barbra Jean pay for her shirt would have been a comical sight to behold. The store clerk, carefully keeping his gaze on the item he was ringing up and not on the 'crazy lady' before him, missed the encore performance of Macy Gray's "I Try" as Barbra Jean grabbed one of the fuzzy pens from the display on the counter and began singing along with the store's radio. A group of old gossiping ladies, huddled together by the magazine rack, surveyed the blonde. Their eyes peered up at her from under the rims of their oversized glasses as though this act of bold confidence went against all their principles. They seemed very intent on taking _something_, some morsel of the latest goings on of this town back with them to the retirement home, and Barbra Jean seemed just fine giving it to them.

Even with so much on her mind, Reba couldn't help but admire how completely comfortable in her skin Barbra Jean seemed.

As the group moved from the magazine rack to something of a little more interest to them, their not-so-hushed whispers swept past her. The words "harlot" and "home wrecker" were among them, as they glared at her. Undoubtedly, Barbra Jean had heard them, but if she had, she made no indication.

Reba's cheeks flushed with anger when she realized that this wasn't just about Barbra Jean's little sing-along performance, but about what she'd done to the Hart family. _Her _family. She opened her mouth to come to her friend's defense, but found herself unable to speak.

It was as if time stood still as scenes from her past came rushing forward to the front of her mind all over again: All the lonely nights, the endless marriage-counseling sessions by herself, hearing Brock blurt out that he wouldn't ever be coming home again, seeing Barbra Jean carrying _her _husband's child ... one after another, they came crashing down her like the relentless tide beating against the shore-line.

Suddenly, Reba realized just what laying all that to rest had cost her. She'd forgiven Brock. Hell, she'd even forgiven _Barbra Jean_. They were _friends _now. Maybe if she hadn't, and had held fast to that resentment and anger, she wouldn't have been so quick to give in when, in a moment of weakness, he had come to her that night. She _never_ would have done this to someone else if she'd only kept in mind how it had felt to her. But she had.

Desire had risen up within her like a new bride ready for her first taste of love; when in reality she'd been a once-divorced woman reclaiming what she'd known all along to be _hers_. _Her _husband.

Reba shivered, remembering his kisses on her bare skin. She stopped herself before any other forsaken memories could invade her mind, and soon Barbra Jean walked up to her, hand out-stretched with a bottle of water, ready for her to take.

"Here, drink this." she said, smiling.

Reba tentatively took the bottle, still trying to shake off the vision of Brock pulling her closer to him with each heated kiss. "Thanks." she managed.

As the two walked out into the windy parking lot, Barbra Jean prattled on about the new movie at the cinema. Excitement lit up her features as she explained that the heroine of the story had reminded her an awful lot of her, and as she did so, Reba felt that sick feeling rising again. Averting her eyes from Barbra Jean, she glanced down at the bottle, noting the label indicating it was pure spring water.

_"How ironic."_, Reba thought, taking a long drink from it. She knew with absolute certainty that no beverage, no matter how pure, would be enough to wash away the acrid taste of betrayal in her mouth.

Nothing would.

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What do you guys think? Let me know:)


	5. Raining Cats and Dogs

A/N - Hey all! There's an important message down at the bottom – please read it before you close out. (Please review, though!) :)

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Out of seemingly nowhere, clouds overhead began to gather and the winds above started to pick up. As they looked around them, people started running for their cars.

"Are you okay to drive, Reba?" Barbra Jean asked, stopping to look up at the overcast skies.

Reba waved her free hand dismissively. "'Course I am." she replied flippantly. Though Barbra Jean seriously doubted this, standing in the middle of the open in what looked like would be quite a storm was not the place to argue.

Before either could say anything else, a huge gale flew through the parking lot, blowing Barbra Jean's skirt up _way _past her knees and tearing Reba's plastic bag out of her hands. The two scrambled to grab up all the items before the inevitable downpour started, but they soon realized their efforts were futile. Huge droplets of water began falling from the sky in mass quantity, hitting the pavement _hard_. It all went downhill from there.

"Where the hell did _this _come from?" Barbra Jean cried out, referring to the rainstorm.

"I don't know!" Reba shook her head, slinging water from the ends of her hair. Her clothes, too, were already beginning to soak through.

"Here, put some in mine!" Barbra Jean yelled through the rain, grabbing items at random and stuffing them in her own bag.

"Just leave them, Barbra Jean!" Reba shouted, picking up what she could.

"No, I've got the rest now -- let's just go!" she replied stubbornly, taking up her bag.

They helped each other up and started trekking through the already half-formed puddles, their shoes sloshing up water with each step. Careful not to go too fast, the two made it to their respective cars without slipping and falling. Poised to open her door, Barbra Jean paused. "I'll meet you at the house, Reba!" she called out.

Hearing this, the redhead almost stumbled. "No, I'm _fine_, Barbra Jean -- just go home!" she shouted.

Barbra Jean only shook her head. She wasn't going to let Reba run her off like that -- not _this _time. Even through the downpour, she could see the glare painted across her friend's face, and it only made her laugh. Typical Reba. Always the 'strong' one.

When she realized Barbra Jean really _wasn't_ going to give up, she admitted temporary defeat, and, with a growl of annoyance, got into her car. Wanting to get home as soon as possible, Reba managed to pull out of the parking lot rather quickly, though not fast enough to avoid the red light directly outside of the Walgreen's exit. Leaning one elbow on the window, she sighed, watching the water being cast off the windshield by the wipers.

Meanwhile, in the car right behind her, Barbra Jean decided to help herself to some of the chocolate she'd seen Reba get. _"She won't mind ... maybe."_ thought Barbra Jean with a wry smile. Not wanting to take her eyes off the road, though, should the light decide to turn green, she stuck her hand in the bag, fingers grasping for the chocolates. As she felt around, she saw cars begin to move up ahead. As her fingertips grazed the surface of the Dove's bag, the car behind her honked their horn, startling her and causing a few of the items on top, including the chocolate, to tumble out onto the passenger side floorboard.

"Well, _damn_!" she said aloud. She looked to the car behind her, only to be met with the intense gazes of the old ladies from store. "Oh, you've got to be freakin' _kidding _me!" Barbra Jean exclaimed, returning their stares with one of her own. Still watching the road as well as the old ladies, she stuck her hand in the bag once more, feeling around for something to replace the hunger she now had for the chocolate. Instead of a bag, though, this time her hand came up with a box. A long, _thin _box. Upon seeing the label, Barbra Jean's hands flew to her mouth in shock.

"Holy ----!" she gasped, the last part of her exclamation being interrupted by the old ladies, who, again, found the need to blare their horn at her. This time, however, Barbra Jean had had enough. "Oh, take a chill-pill, you old _bats_!" she shouted, laying on her own horn.

Hearing all the commotion behind her, Reba glanced in her rear-view mirror to see what was up and was met with Barbra Jean's wondering eyes staring back at her. Unable to look away, Reba shook her head as if to ask: "What?" After that, all she could see was Barbra Jean's mouth going a-mile-a-minute, her blue eyes wide in excitement. Letting out a frustrated sigh, Reba finally turned halfway around in her seat to see what was going on and got a glimpse of what Barbra Jean was holding.

"Oh." was all she could manage. Spinning back around, Reba slowly slid down in her seat, desperate to avoid Barbra Jean's questioning eyes. Beside her, her cell phone, on its charger, started ringing. Reluctantly, she reached for it and answered.

"... Hello ...?" she murmured, knowing who it was.

"'_Oh_'? That's all you could say? – 'Oh'?" Barbra Jean squeaked. "Why didn't you _tell _me?"

"Well, I don't know!" Reba retorted defensively. "I-I'm not even really sure yet." she lied.

"Hence, the _test_ – yeah, I got that." Barbra Jean spat out, mildly frustrated that her questions weren't getting any answers. "Was it that you didn't trust me to keep it a secret, Reba?"

Stunned by this, the redhead's eyes flew up to the mirror to reassure her friend. "What? No! I just ... didn't want to say anything before I knew for sure." she recovered quickly.

That seemed to placate Barbra Jean momentarily, but Reba could already the next question forming on her lips.

"Look, can we not talk about this right now? We're almost home, anyway." she blurted out, her heart pounding.

"Well, I guess so ... but – " Barbra Jean started to say, but was cut off by Reba's quick "Okay." and then there was only the sound of the rain beating against the windshield.

As they both pulled into Reba's driveway, the rain seemed to lessen up a bit, though the clouds ahead still held their ominous gray color. Barbra Jean quickened her pace to keep up with the silent Reba as they walked up to the door. "Shall we?" Barbra Jean asked.

Reba nodded. "But, Barbra Jean? ... Please – "

"Don't tell anybody? Oh, I won't, Reba. I wouldn't, I swear." she vowed.

"Well, ... actually, I was going to ask you not to make me eat your soup." Reba finished sheepishly. "But telling no one is fine, too." she grinned.

With the ice now broken, she opened the door for them and they walked inside. But instead of being met with the usual empty house, typical with the time of day, they found that not only were Van and Jake home, but seated between them on the couch, was Brock.

"Hey, mom." Jake chirped, eyes glued to the television screen.

"Well, hey there ... "Reba greeted the three of them with a smile, trying to keep her voice from quavering. "W-what are you guys doing here?" she asked, failing miserably at trying to act normal.

"Oh. Uh, school got canceled because of the weather, so I went and picked Jake up." Brock explained, eyeing his ex-wife carefully.

"Yeah, and I didn't have any afternoon classes today." Van added monotonously, obviously engrossed in whatever program he and Jake were watching.

"Ah." Reba replied simply.

"Oh. Hey, hon." Brock smiled, acknowledging his wife's presence.

"Hey, there, husband-o-mine!" Barbra Jean greeted him energetically and rather loudly. "Is it raining out there or _what_? Boy, is it raining!" she paused after this outburst, looking to the ceiling as though a magic diversion would just fall into her arms. "I mean, you could almost say it's raining cats _and _dogs!" she laughed nervously. "Not _just _cats, but dogs, too! ... You know? ..." she ended flatly with a sigh.

"Yeah..." Brock nodded his head, though he really didn't.

"Well, I'm going to go change into something a little warmer." Reba stated decidedly. "Barbra Jean, do you have the bag?" she asked quietly, in a strained tone.

"What? Oh! Yeah, here." she said hurriedly, shoving the bag into Reba's arms.

Though the two younger boys didn't seem to notice the strange exchange, Brock held a quizzical gaze on both of them. "Is something ... going on here?" he asked with a short laugh.

Barbra Jean and Reba glanced at each other, the same unconvincing look etched across their faces.

"Nah." Reba replied, a little more like herself. "We just saw a few people we used to know while we were at the store. Caught up a little, chatted – you know, _women _stuff." she lied, sounding more and more like herself as the moments wore on, putting Brock at ease. Ironically enough, it was the lies that made _her_ feel most comfortable. _That _much she could do.

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A/N: Hey, guys. Hope you enjoyed this chapter! But, before I continue on, I actually need your help with this next part. There are several ways this story could go, and so I have a couple of different plans in mind. But, I would really like to know what you guys want to happen! You are the readers, you tell me. :) I've added a poll to my profile, and it would really help me out if you checked it out. (Though it seems you can't access it by just clicking on my name above.)

So, if for some reason, it's not working, here is the question:

Who would you like to see as the father of Reba's baby?

1) Brock Hart

2) Jack Morgan

3) Another character

4) Author's judgement

If you have enjoyed the story as much as I have writing it, please go vote. If it's not working, you could always let me know through a review. That's fine, too! I just don't want to disappoint anybody. :) Thanks everyone!


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